A Touch of RaiN
by jublke
Summary: What should have happened after 7x20, "Wolfe in Sheep's Clothing." A touch of Ryan x Natalia because I like the pairing. Spoilers for that episode. Chapter 7 has a trigger warning for memories of physical abuse and self-harm. [not complete]
1. Chapter 1

This is a work of fan-fiction. I do not own the characters of _CSI: Miami._ I am just borrowing them for fun.

This piece is set after Season 7's "Wolfe in Sheep's Clothing". I'm new to the fandom, so if you catch any typos or continuity errors, please drop me a line. I am still looking for a beta-reader for future pieces - if you are interested, let me know. Thanks!

* * *

The minute Horatio put on his sunglasses and sauntered off, Ryan felt his energy level plummet. He'd had no sleep the night before, enduring hour after hour of physical torture at the hands of a sadistic madman. Ryan touched his bruised lip gently. The pain of his missing lower molar had returned with a vengeance. The fact that his abuser was dead brought little comfort. The hug that Billy had given him before he rejoined his father helped some.

Horatio knew that Ryan had risked his career to keep the little boy safe and his words told Ryan that he had earned the older man's respect. But Horatio had no idea of the extent of abuse that Ryan had endured, the keen sense of abandonment which he still felt because of the team's inaction, or the fact that he had cried out in vain for his boss' help during his night of misery. Ryan's emotions, the ones he kept so closely guarded, threatened to bubble to the surface, right there in broad daylight on the steps before the Miami-Dade crime lab.

Eager to put distance between himself and this horrible day, Ryan attempted to walk toward the parking lot. But as he staggered forward and nearly fell, he abruptly realized that he was in no condition to drive home. It occurred to him then that the human body can run for only so long on pure adrenaline. _Maybe a shower will help_ , he thought.

Reluctantly, he turned back toward the crime lab, hoping that he could avoid collapsing in front of anyone he knew. The day shift had begun to trickle out of the building to head home for the night; he desperately wished to avoid Calleigh and Eric. Ryan could feel his weakness rising; the next time they pushed him verbally, he wouldn't be able to stop at "extenuating circumstances." He would tell them everything in excruciating detail, right down to the blood splatter exiting his mouth after the Russian mobster had extracted his tooth. Maybe that would wipe the smug looks of disgust from their faces.

 _Why do I even care what they think?_ Ryan wondered. _Clearly, they think so little of me that they never even noticed I was missing._ He swallowed hard as he pulled open the glass door. _And when did these front doors get so heavy?_

Ryan ducked his head as he hurried down the hall toward the locker room. Surely, a shower would help soothe his sore muscles and relax him enough to drive home.

* * *

"Have you seen Ryan?" Natalia entered the room where Eric and Calleigh had returned to process evidence, a perplexed look on her face. The couple shared a meaningful glance before Calleigh responded.

"We just threw him out of here," she said, with her usual blunt efficiency. She locked her calm gaze on Natalia's wide brown eyes.

"What?!"

Eric nodded. "He was withholding evidence." With gloved hands, he held up a little plastic bag containing a shell casing and waved it at Natalia. "Said something about 'extenuating circumstances.'" Eric shook his head. "There's never an excuse to tamper with a crime scene."

Natalia swallowed. "Front desk said he staggered down the hall about an hour ago, screaming 'no' over and over again into his cell phone before sliding down to the floor. They said he nearly collapsed."

Now it was Eric and Calleigh's turn to look surprised.

"Ryan did that?" Eric asked Natalia, demanding confirmation. "Ryan Wolfe?"

She nodded. "I wasn't here - I was at training all day - but everyone's talking about it." She chewed her lip worriedly before adding, "And someone said he's missing a tooth?"

Calleigh turned her troubled gaze to Natalia and spoke thoughtfully. "I asked him about that. He said he had a crown made and the temporary fell out."

Eric frowned. "None of this makes any sense. I'm going to go talk to H." He hurried toward the door.

"And I'm going to keep looking for Ryan," Natalia said, following Eric out of the room.

Calleigh stared at the evidence in front of her and sighed at the retreating backs of her co-workers. "Let me know what you find out."


	2. Chapter 2

My thanks to CSIMiamiFAN, ARLENE, and anitra for your comments on the previous chapter. It's always nice to know that someone is reading along. If you see any errors or canon violations, please let me know since I am new to the fandom. Thanks!

* * *

Ryan made it as far as the benches in the locker room before his knees buckled and he simply had to sit down. He knew his shower caddy was just a few feet away in his locker, but he couldn't muster the strength to stand any longer. It occurred to him briefly that he could stretch out on the bench and take a nap, but his obsessive-compulsive disorder wouldn't let him forget about the germs that were surely embedded in the wooden surface.

He lifted his arms and managed to loosen the striped tie and undo the top buttons of his lavender dress shirt. Gingerly, he touched the laceration at his neck and winced. It seemed like all of his injuries were making themselves known with a vengeance: the bruising along his jawline, the throbbing of his tooth socket, his battered right shoulder, a catch in his left side that wouldn't allow him to take a deep breath ...

"Ryan!"

Natalia's happy shout jolted him awake and he hissed with the pain of sudden movement and full consciousness. He watched as her brows knitted together in confusion, the smile slipping from her face as she drew closer. "Are you all right?" She approached him cautiously.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Ryan's hand unconsciously flew to his throat. As Natalia's eyes narrowed, he realized his error too late. She was now staring at his neck, an expression of horror dominating her features. He attempted to rebutton his shirt, but his fingers were too stiff and clumsy to do the job properly.

"No, you're not!" She dropped next to Ryan, deftly removed the tie, and began to loosen the remaining buttons of his shirt. He tried to fight against her and pull away, but he was simply too weak and weary to do more than list in the opposite direction. Natalia's fingers brushed against the bruising around his neck and gently probed the deep purple welts on his abdomen. He hissed in pain and her breath caught. "Ryan, who did this to you?" she whispered.

He sagged against her. "Russians," he mumbled.

"Oh, my God. Does H know?"

Ryan nodded. "Killed him. Saved Billy." It was hard to form the words.

"Ryan." Natalia placed her hands on his cheeks. Her fingers were cool to the touch and he closed his eyes, relaxing into her tenderness. She shook his face gently. "Ryan! Does Horatio know you're hurt? Have you seen a doctor?"

Ryan blinked at her and tried to concentrate. "I'm fine, Nat. Really." He couldn't quite bring his eyes into focus, but he could see her well enough to notice the tears in her eyes.

"Calleigh," Natalia rose and spoke into her cell phone, her voice crisply efficient even as she sniffed and wiped at her eyes. "I found Ryan. I've got to get him to the hospital." Her voice cracked over the words. "No, we should be okay. I'm going to drive him over now. All right. See you there."

She ended the call and turned her attention back to the injured man, speaking slowly in a voice that left no room for argument. "Ryan, you have to go to the hospital now."

With a grimace, the young man rose slowly to his feet. His posture was so awkward that Natalia sidled next to him and put her arm around his waist. Immediately, he cried out, cursing himself for his weakness.

"Where else do you hurt?" she asked cautiously. Her fingers began to gently traverse his body, and Ryan had the fleeting thought that if he was feeling better, this might actually be kind of fun. But the poking and prodding brought up image after image of the nightmare he had endured, and he had to fight hard not to throw up.

"Everywhere," he ground out. She placed a hand on his throat and he flinched before realizing that she was only trying to take his pulse.

"Ryan, I think we need to call the paramedics." Her voice rose in pitch as she thought out loud. "I don't know where you're hurt and I don't want to injure you further. You're awfully pale. I could get the team and bring the Hummer around front, but we'd still have to get you to the elevator and walk you out of here." She chewed her lip as she gently sat him back down on the bench. "You can't walk any more, can you?"

He raised his eyes in defiance, but the gaze that locked on his was so full of compassion that he simply shook his head. "It hurts," he admitted, swallowing hard.

Natalia blinked back more tears. Once she had placed the call for help, she sat next to Ryan and tenderly pulled him toward her. After a few minutes, he shuddered into her arms, his tears soaking through her white silk dress shirt.


	3. Chapter 3

My thanks to CSIMiamiFAN, Paula Galtarocha, anitra-mason1, and Gooniegirl3333 for your comments on the previous chapter. I also appreciate Gooniegirl3333's beta-reading and her answers to my random fandom questions. Any remaining errors are mine.

* * *

Horatio Caine dropped into his desk chair, tossed his sunglasses on his desk, and rubbed his eyes. The boy was safe, that was what mattered. Any transgressions that Ryan had made to hinder the case could be dealt with later. But why had his youngest CSI attempted to handle negotiations with the Russians alone?

 _Why didn't he come to me?_ Horatio wondered.

The man was saved from his thoughts by a knock at his office door. "H? You in?"

"Come in, Eric."

The Cuban entered, a set to his jaw that Horatio had learned to associate with Eric bracing for an argument. This wasn't going to be a social call. Horatio tipped his head, and the younger man took that as an invitation to speak.

"You need to deal with Wolfe." Eric's words were rushed, impatient, and angry.

As always, Horatio spoke calmly. "In what way?"

"In every way! He's keeping secrets again. He tampered with a crime scene today! He stole evidence." Eric grabbed the back of Horatio's guest chair in a vise grip.

"Did he return the evidence?" Horatio appeared to be studying a specific date on his desk calendar.

Eric seemed caught off-guard by Horatio's reply and he relaxed his hold on the chair. "Yes."

"Do you have the right suspect in custody?" Horatio turned his head slowly to study Eric.

Eric frowned. "Yes, but we wasted a day's worth of work - "

"So that a young boy's life could be saved." Horatio locked eyes with Eric and recognition dawned quickly for the younger man.

"Wolfe was involved in a hostage negotiation." Eric looked away and slumped into the guest chair, thinking out loud. "That's why he was yelling on the phone." He crossed his arms and stared at the floor.

Horatio nodded, remembering the gasps and audibly frightened breathing on the other end of the line after he had rescued Billy Gantry and grabbed the dead Russian's phone. Ryan had believed - if only for a few minutes - that Billy had been shot. It did not surprise him to hear that his youngest CSI might have run screaming through the halls of the crime lab.

"Eric, I have a question for you." Horatio turned his probing blue eyes back to his colleague. "Did you reach Mr. Wolfe by phone last night?"

"I called him a second time but he didn't answer. One of the techs coming in on night shift told me she spotted his Hummer with a flat tire. I figured he was out of cell range with a tow truck."

"He was taken hostage by the Russians."

"What?" Eric visibly paled. "He showed up on time for work yesterday. He never said anything was wrong."

"No, he didn't." Horatio picked up a pen and began to absently draw marks on his desk calendar as he thought over the timeline. _How long was Ryan in captivity? How was it possible that there were no marks on him? Except for the split lip_ , Horatio amended silently. _Does Mr. Wolfe have other injuries that aren't so obvious?_

"Delko," Eric responded to his cell phone. "Hey, Calleigh. Wait? What? Okay, we'll be right there." He stood and stared at his boss. "Natalia just took Wolfe to Miami-Dade Hospital."

As Horatio grabbed his shades and followed Eric out the door, one painful realization dominated his thoughts. _Ryan didn't confide in me because I wasn't there for him._

* * *

Horatio stood in the waiting area of the emergency room, staring out of a window without really seeing anything. He rocked back on his heels and wondered for the hundredth time how Mr. Wolfe was doing. It had been nearly ninety minutes since Ryan had first arrived at the hospital, just over an hour since Horatio had clasped Ryan's hand and assured him that he would be at his side when the young man's surgery was over. Calleigh and Eric had stepped out to grab everyone a bite to eat. Natalia was still on the phone, trying to round up the few known members of Ryan's family.

The Lieutenant retraced the day's steps in his mind, trying to recognize the exact moment when he should have realized that Ryan was injured. Was it when Ryan had shown him the video of Billy with his hands bound, his eyes flashing in anger? Or perhaps when Ryan had said he was kidnapped without elaborating. Why had sucrose and calcium phosphate been so deeply embedded into the fibers of his shirt?

 _You're slipping, old man_ , he chastised himself, but Horatio knew that wasn't the real source of his guilt. The actual reason was the pride he felt in watching Ryan follow in his footsteps. It was like watching himself in a time-delayed mirror. This was why he generally called Ryan by his last name - to remind himself not to go too easy on the kid. The young man was now a master at concealing his true emotions, and Horatio felt a sudden burst of shame. He had contributed to Ryan's apparent belief that a real man never showed any weakness, never took off his mask, never revealed his vulnerabilities to anyone, including his family and friends. Not even when he was desperately in need of medical attention. _If Natalia hadn't been there when Ryan's injured spleen had finally ruptured ..._

 _Ryan could have died._ That thought came unbidden, and Horatio knew that he was losing the balance of power within his own mind, losing his ability to stay calm and focused. _What was it that Mr. Wolfe had said? "H, they're trying to break us." And I responded, "I say, bring it on."_ Horatio shook his head. _How foolish of me. He was trying to tell me that he was hurt and I simply refused to listen._

 _At the end of the day, we're all human._ Horatio allowed himself the pain of that single thought, and he had to pinch the bridge of his nose to stem the tide of emotion that swelled just beneath the surface.

Frank found Horatio with one hand over his eyes, shoulders slumped. He patted his old friend on the shoulder and handed him a styrofoam cup of coffee. "How's the kid?"

The redhead took a deep breath as he accepted the drink, staring calmly at his friend before replying. Only his glittering eyes belied his intense concern. "Not good, I'm afraid. They took him back for surgery almost an hour ago." Horatio cocked his head. "He should have been out by now." He sipped the coffee and frowned.

Tripp gave him a crooked smile. "They ain't got the best brew in this place."

"You can say that again," Horatio agreed. He threw the coffee out and resumed staring absently out of the window, rocking back on his heels, this time with Frank at his side.

Fifteen minutes later, Alexx Woods burst out of the double doors of emergency and into the waiting area, clad in green scrubs with her hair in a ponytail. Horatio and Frank quickly flanked her.

"How is he?" Horatio asked, his head tilted with concern.

Alexx patted him on the arm and Horatio finally felt his anxiety lessen. "Baby boy's gonna be fine. They were able to save his spleen, but he's going to be sore for a few weeks. Three cracked ribs and a bruised kidney. I'll let you know when he gets out of recovery."

"Thank you, Alexx. I want to be there for him when he wakes up."

Alexx squeezed the man's arm. "Speaking of that, Horatio ... Honey, I need to speak with you privately." She gave Tripp a meaningful nod and the Texan backed away in understanding.

Horatio cocked his head and focused his blue eyes on her. "What is it, Alexx?"

She pressed a small plastic case into his hand. "Ryan wanted you to keep this for him. He didn't want me to give it to anyone else. He handed his gun and badge over to Natalia; I take it you have them now?"

Horatio nodded as he took the contact lens case and put it into his pocket. "Thank you."

The brown eyes that turned to him were troubled. "I didn't even know he started wearing contacts, Horatio. Ryan quit talking to me about his vision problems after you used him to test me about being the lab mole." The hurt in her voice was apparent.

He lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry, Alexx."

"Baby boy shouldn't even be wearing a contact lens on that right eye. With a puncture injury like he's had, that eye's always going to be prone to infection."

The older man simply raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement, and Alexx sighed. "I'm worried about him, Horatio. There are ligature marks around his neck. I tried to talk to him about it before surgery, but he wouldn't tell me how they happened or even acknowledge that they were causing him any pain."

When Horatio returned the sigh, Alexx gave him a sharp look. "Talk to him, Horatio. Let him know it's okay to accept help." She caught his gaze and held it. "Ryan's afraid he's going to disappoint you if he admits to any weakness, physical or mental." She dropped her eyes and looked away as tears began to form. "As a torture victim, he's going to need counseling to get through this."

He nodded solemnly. "I know."


	4. Chapter 4

My thanks to Gooniegirl3333 for beta-reading this for me. Any remaining errors are mine. I also appreciate everyone who has followed, favorited, or commented on thIs story. A special shout-out to anitra mason 1, CSIMiamiFAN, and Gooniegirl3333 for your comments on chapter 3. :)

* * *

Natalia stood just outside of the automatic doors leading to the emergency wing of Miami-Dade General, clutching Ryan's cell phone. It felt strange to be holding such an intimate and personal possession of Ryan's, even more so than when he had handed his badge and gun over to her. She realized that despite the many times she had seen Ryan talking on it, she had never really looked at Ryan's phone before. He never left it out where anyone could see it.

Natalia examined the cell phone now, turning the plain black case over in her hands. It was worn with use, slight dips in the rubber where Ryan's fingers had clutched it so hard that he had rubbed the material away. _Like everything else in his life_ , she mused, _Ryan holds his phone with intensity and determination._

 _He's going to need that now_ , she thought, remembering him curling into her embrace in the locker room, releasing pent-up tears of pain and frustration. Her stomach flip-flopped with anxiety, thinking of Ryan just inside those doors, still deep in surgery. Horatio had promised to buzz her the minute he heard anything. Natalia took a deep breath and tried to set her worries for Ryan aside.

She touched the screen and the phone lit up. She wasn't sure what she had expected to see there, but she definitely hadn't anticipated her face smiling back at her. Ryan's background wallpaper was a picture of the two of them at Calleigh's house during a picnic last summer. It was a candid shot; he was grabbing at a football she had tucked tightly under one arm. Ryan was laughing in the picture, and she had a look on her face that was sheer giddiness. Her happy face dominated the frame; Ryan gazed at her in the background with an expression of unguarded tenderness that he rarely allowed in everyday life.

She sniffed as she stared at the picture. _We look so happy together_ , she thought. _I've never seen this picture. I wonder where he got this ..._

 _Calleigh_ , she realized. _Calleigh must have taken it and sent it to Ryan._ Natalia felt a pang of jealousy, mixed with embarrassment and more than a twinge of pleasure. The jealousy stemmed from the fact that Calleigh had shared such a personal moment of theirs with Ryan without her knowledge; embarrassment because somehow Calleigh was in on the fact that there was something - what, Natalia didn't quite know yet - brewing between Ryan and herself. But her pleasure at the thought of Ryan choosing to look at this picture - of her - every day overrode all other feelings.

She shook her head, trying to cast such silly thoughts aside. _I'm being ridiculous. Calleigh gave this picture to Ryan because she knows we're friends. Good friends. That's all, nothing else. It probably reminds him of a fun day he had with the team._

 _I need to concentrate. Ryan gave me his phone so I could call his family, not snoop through it._

She set her teeth to the task of unlocking his cell phone. He hadn't been in any condition to give her his password, so she tried to guess the four digits. With a start, she realized that she knew both his computer password at work as well as his locker combination. But neither combo did the trick. On a whim, she began punching in other numbers she thought might have significance to Ryan: his birthdate, various digits from the Hummers' license plates, his anniversary date as a CSI, the first four digits of pi, the first four digits of pi backwards ...

The home screen opened and Natalia broke into a wide grin. _That was too easy_ , she thought, mentally filing away her success to tease him about later.

Her satisfaction was short-lived, however. When she examined his stored list of phone numbers, she gasped. There were no names listed, only the numbers 1 through 27. _This is going to take forever_ , she realized. There was no telling which number corresponded with Uncle Ron, or whether any of the numbers led to Ryan's estranged parents.

She sighed and hit the first number without really looking at it. As she waited impatiently for someone to pick up, her own phone began to vibrate in her pocket. She pulled it out with a sense of trepidation. Would H have good news?

But it wasn't Horatio on the line. _Wait a minute_ , she realized, ending both calls. _I'm number one? Not Calleigh? Not H. Not Uncle Ron._

 _Me._

She smiled at her discovery as she stared at the happy faces on his phone's home screen once again. Could it be? _Does Ryan Wolfe actually have feelings for me?_

Reality set in a moment later. This was Ryan after all, OCD organizer extraordinaire. _Maybe I'm first on his list simply because he calls me the most?_

Still, something light and airy fluttered in Natalia's heart, something she hadn't felt in a long time. It felt good to be number one.

This time, when her phone rang, she knew it would be Horatio with good news.

* * *

Ryan groaned and forced his eyes open. His limbs felt heavy and his mind was clouded over with the uncomfortable nausea that follows a round of anesthesia.

"Hey, there, partner." He turned his head to find Horatio looking down at him. The older man gave him that rare soft smile he reserved solely for children and innocent crime victims. The redhead picked up his nearest hand and gave it a squeeze. "How're you feeling, Ryan?"

 _Ryan, not Mr. Wolfe. How bad off am I?_ he wondered. "Been better," Ryan managed, and forced a half-smile.

"I've got some people here who are anxious to see you. Are you up for some company?"

Ryan nodded and soon his view of Horatio was replaced by one of Calleigh and Eric. "Hey," Calleigh said, taking a seat beside him. Her long blonde hair tickled his arm as she reached over and gently touched his shoulder. Eric simply stood near the foot of the hospital bed and nodded, arms folded, a concerned look on his face.

Ryan blinked back at them. It was so hard to concentrate. _Aren't they still mad at me?_ _Why are they here?_

"We heard about what you did for that kid, Wolfe," Eric said, his voice rough. "Good job." The Cuban locked his dark eyes with Ryan's hazel ones, and Calleigh gave his shoulder a squeeze. Ryan closed his eyes, a knot of worry he hadn't even realized he was carrying relaxing deep within.

"We'll let you rest." Ryan heard Calleigh's voice faintly as she and Eric moved toward the door and he drifted back to sleep.

* * *

 _He was strapped to a chair in an abandoned sugar plant enduring punch after punch to his abdomen. He wanted to cry out, but he knew that would only enrage the Russian further. The crazed man turned to him, wild eyes burning with fury. "You will do as I say!"_

 _"Never!" Ryan snarled back and the man punched him full in the gut. Ryan heard a rib snap and felt searing pain, a knife driving into his side, digging deeper and deeper ..._

 _"_ Ryan!" A voice rang through his mind, like a church bell, an angel of mercy. "Ryan, sweetie, please wake up."

He cracked open his eyes and hissed at the influx of light. Everything hurt. He felt like he was on fire, his abdomen aflame in gut-wrenching agony. "Tal-i-a?" he ground out. "Hurts." Realizing she was holding his hand, he clutched it like a lifeline.

"Hang in there, sweetie. Everything's going to be okay. I called the nurse." Her voice sounded solid and professional, but he could hear the undercurrent of fear. It occurred to him then that there were bells going off, alarms to indicate that perhaps he wasn't doing all right.

 _Where was that nurse?_

Ryan relaxed his grip on Natalia's hand and tried to float away from the pain. He was drifting away from his body when another alarm sounded.

That was when he heard Natalia start to scream.


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks for the reviews, CSiMiamiFAN and anitra mason 1. CSIMiamiFAN, I had to go look up that episode with Calleigh. I haven't watched that one yet. I've been jumping around a bit on Netflix.

My thanks to Gooniegirl3333 for beta-reading, to Christina for giving me inspiration, and to my husband for putting up with me as I whine about how I can't get my plot to gel. Any remaining errors or random red herrings are mine.

As always, I don't own _CSI: Miami._ I'm just writing this because somebody had to take care of poor Ryan after what the Russian mob did to him.

* * *

Horatio burst from the elevator and strode purposefully down the hall. His step only wavered once he found his quarry: a young woman alone, huddled in a waiting room chair in an alcove of the hospital's trauma wing. She clutched a black-cased cell phone to her chest. Ryan's cell phone.

He knelt beside her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Miss Boa Vista. How is he?"

Raising her red-rimmed eyes to meet his, she shook her head and shuddered.

He eased into the seat beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Thank you for calling me."

They sat that way for a long time, Natalia shivering in Horatio's arms, the man trying to calm her down enough that she could speak. His touch had the desired effect, and Natalia finally found her voice. "He had a seizure." Her voice was raspy. "He woke up in a lot of pain and then his monitors - all of the alarms - went off." She leaned back into Horatio's chest, reliving the memory, and it was apparent to him that she was trying hard not to cry.

He changed the subject. "Did you reach Mr. Wolfe's family?"

Natalia shook her head. "I left messages for his parents and his uncle. His niece said she'll come down as soon as finals are over."

"His parents?" Horatio echoed, without really intending to. He fought the urge to stand up and pace.

Natalia caught the look on his face. "Why? I know they aren't close, but I thought they'd want to know."

 _Yes, but do you know why they aren't close? H_ oratio thought grimly. He tried to blank his expression. "If Mr. Wolfe's parents attempt to contact him, please notify me immediately. I'll notify the staff here as well." He held out his hand. "Perhaps it would be best if I held on to Mr. Wolfe's phone for now." _Why would Ryan even have his parents' number stored on his phone?_

Natalia surprised him by refusing to surrender the device. She clutched the black case tightly to her chest. "Horatio, he gave this to me. I promised him ..." Her eyes filled with tears. "I promised him I'd hold on to it until he got better."

The red-haired man nodded. "Okay." _What's done is done_ , he thought grimly.

A middle-aged man with a slight stoop approached them. "Are you here for Jonathan Frederick?"

Horatio stood, recognizing Ryan's alias. He'd thought it best to obscure Ryan's whereabouts, lest the Russians attempt to locate him. "We are."

Natalia slowly rose to her feet as well. "Is he okay?" her voice quavered.

The doctor nodded. "He had an adverse reaction to one of the medications he was taking. He's on a different pain management regimen now. We've upped his antibiotic dosage as well. He's resting comfortably."

"I want to see him."

The doctor nodded at Natalia's insistence. "Don't excite him in any way. He needs his rest."

The brunette began walking, but turned back when Horatio didn't follow. "Aren't you coming?"

"I will in a minute. You go on ahead."

As Natalia resumed her walk down the hall, H turned to the man beside him. "Doctor, if I may have a word?"

The stooped man glanced up nervously at the tone of Horatio's voice. "Yes?"

"Once you have Mr. Frederick settled into a permanent room, I'm going to place a guard at the door for his protection. He was attacked in the line of duty. In addition, he has some family members who may attempt to visit him, but that is not advisable in his condition." _Or any condition._ Horatio waited for that information to sink in before he added, "I will leave you a list of people who are not allowed to visit him. I strongly suggest that you move him to a different floor."

"You'll need to speak with the director about that." The man gave Horatio the woman's contact information. Checking the time - 5 am - he realized that he would need to wait several hours to speak with her. _Damn_.

After exchanging polite goodbyes, he decided to wake his best friend with a phone call. "Frank, we may have a situation."

The voice on the other end was thick with sleep. "Christ, Horatio, can't it wait two hours?"

"No, I don't think it can. Mr. Wolfe's parents know he's in Miami-Dade Hospital."

Frank swore a colorful diatribe. "How'd that happen?"

"Miss Boa Vista was apparently unaware of their history, and left them a message. And Ryan, for reasons I can't fathom, has their number stored in his phone." Horatio let an uncharacteristic amount of worry and irritation imbue his words. "I've got him admitted under an alias, but that won't hold them for long."

"That's the last thing that kid needs right now." Frank sighed, fully awake. "You want me to notify security, right?"

"Thank you, Frank. Twenty-four hour coverage until further notice."

Horatio pocketed his phone and washed a hand down his face. It would do Natalia no good to see that he was this concerned. Briefly, Horatio considered donning his trademark sunglasses - just placing them on his face always brought him a measure of comfort - but he rejected the idea on the grounds that it would look ridiculous indoors in the wee hours of the morning. Squaring his shoulders, he walked down the hall to Ryan's room. Finding the door slightly ajar, he peered in.

His young CSI lay still as death, tethered to an IV line and numerous machines. Natalia sat in the chair beside him, holding his hand. She looked up as Horatio entered the room and shook her head. "He's been like this the whole time," she whispered.

H stood still for a moment, watching the scene, heart constricting painfully. _I hate this damn hospital._ The smell alone brought back memories of their vigil over Eric, of Ryan's previous hospitalization to extract a nail from his eye, of Marisol drawing her final breath.

He took a step toward Natalia. "Miss Boa Vista. You need to go home and get some rest. I'll sit with him for awhile."

She drew a shuddering breath. "I can't leave. What if he ..."

"He won't." Horatio gave her a small smile. "I'll make sure someone is with him at all times, okay?"

Reluctantly, Natalia released Ryan's hand and stood to face Horatio. "I want to go on leave until he's better. I can't concentrate on anything else right now anyway." Her shoulders slumped in defeat.

He placed a hand on her arm. "That won't be necessary. We'll work it out. Don't come back here until you've had some rest. I'll call you if anything changes."

Once Natalia had left, H settled into the uncomfortable guest chair and rubbed his eyes. He studied the injured young man lying next to him. Placing one hand on his gun, he watched the rise and fall of Ryan's chest. The boy was safe for now; that was what mattered.

Horatio allowed himself a yawn, and suddenly realized that he was exhausted. _I'll just close my eyes for a minute,_ he thought. Soon, there were two men sleeping in Ryan's hospital room.


	6. Chapter 6

My thanks to Gooniegirl3333 for beta-reading and to Christina for the free legal consultation. Any remaining errors are mine. As always, I greatly appreciate reviews. Thanks for your comments on the last chapter, CSIMiamiFAN and anitra mason 1. It's always nice to know that someone is following along at home.

* * *

 _He was strapped to a chair with duct tape. The loud, angry Russian was standing over him, bellowing at him ... until the scene morphed and he was years younger, still trapped in a chair, still listening to someone yelling at him. Only this time, it was his father._

 _"If I've told you once, I've told you a million times, boy, you can't talk to your mother like that." The hand slapped his mouth hard, drawing blood._

 _"Dad, I -"_

 _"Don't you dare sass me!" Another slap. "You'd better show some respect. Someday, you're going to mouth off to the wrong guy and get yourself into real trouble." As the fist approached his face, Ryan heard his father's voice clearly. "I'm doing this for your own good."_

Calleigh, slouched in the guest chair leafing though a magazine, looked up as she heard Ryan's heart rate accelerate on the monitor. He hadn't moved once in the two hours since she'd taken over for Horatio at his bedside. The rest of Ryan's vitals appeared normal to her eyes. Clearly, he was still asleep, but the twitching of his arms and small moans escaping his lips indicated that real rest now evaded him. He was obviously experiencing a nightmare. At the same time, she became aware of bellowing in the hall just outside of Ryan's hospital room.

"You have no legal right to keep us away from him! He's our son!"

Ryan began to flail on the bed, moaning and thrashing, and Calleigh was worried that he would pull out his IV line. She rose quickly to stand next to him. With a gentle hand, the blond stroked his cheek, rubbed his shoulder, and squeezed his hand. "Ryan, it's Calleigh. I'm here, sweetie." The flailing stopped, much to her relief, but the bellowing in the hall did not. She could feel Ryan tremble beneath her fingers. _So this is Ryan's father,_ she thought. _No wonder Horatio restricted visitation._

Calleigh leaned close and whispered to her colleague. "It's okay, Ryan. You're safe here. Horatio won't let anyone in who could hurt you." But it wasn't until the yelling died down and faded away that Ryan relaxed completely under Calleigh's touch and settled back into a deep sleep.

* * *

The phone wouldn't stop ringing in Natalia's apartment. She tried to ignore it, but after an hour of sporadic calls, she finally gave in. Maybe H had an update on Ryan.

"H'llo," she slurred, still half-asleep.

"Who is this?" A deep male voice - angry, impatient, and expectant - woke Natalia in a hurry. Staring at the device in her hand, she abruptly realized that, in her sleep-deprived stupor, she had answered a call on Ryan's cell phone instead of her own. From number 27, whomever that was.

"Uh, this is Natalia. I work with Ryan." When no response was forthcoming, she added, "And you are?"

"At the hospital. Trying to see my son."

Natalia sat up in bed and wrapped the quilt around herself. An odd sense of discomfort rose up her spine. His voice reminded her of someone, and not someone nice. She tried to blink the thought aside. She had to handle this call perfectly. Horatio had barred Ryan's parents from visiting him, she knew that much. The why was still unclear.

"He's resting. He had a bad night. A reaction to medication." She realized that she was babbling, but she wasn't sure what to say.

"I demand to see him now!" The voice was menacing, threatening, and Natalia had a sudden vision of a young Ryan cowering beneath that anger. She pulled her knees to her chest. Tucking the cell phone under one ear, she rubbed her arms in a vain attempt to get warm.

"He's not allowed any visitors."

"That's a lie, and you know it, young lady. I talked with reception this morning and had to lean on them for an hour until they gave me his room number. You damned cops are floating in and out of his room at will."

Natalia swallowed. Her intuition flashed her a bright neon warning sign: tread cautiously with this one. She settled for a passive, misleading mix of truth. "He was injured in the line of duty. There may be dangerous people after him, looking to retaliate. Our boss is trying to protect him."

"Oh, is that so? Dangerous people, huh? Dangerous like his mother and me? It's that damned job that nearly got him killed in the first place! Never should have taken such an idiot job. Family of lawyers but that one has to play hero. Stupid kid never did know how to take care of himself."

"Ryan isn't stu- "

"His mother's over here, worryin' herself into an early grave. That damned kid was always getting himself in over his head. And look where it's got us now! His mother won't eat, she can't sleep. It's all his fault."

Natalia now knew who the man reminded her of: Nick Townsend, her abusive, dead ex-husband. Ryan's father had that same warped sense of entitlement.

"Ryan is the victim here." Her words were laced with venom.

"Yeah, that would be Ryan, all right," George Wolfe agreed, surprising Natalia. "He's always played the victim. Poor little Ryan. First, it was colic and asthma. Then he was picked on in school. Developed that OCD crap. Finally got the kid to college and thought he might actually make something of himself. But he failed his LSAT and turned to a life of crime."

Natalia actually rolled her eyes. She knew it was a bad idea to engage in this disturbing one-sided conversation, but she just couldn't help herself. Ryan deserved so much better than this. "Mr. Wolfe, I think you have the wrong idea about your son. Ryan is very good at his job. Horatio gave him this assignment -"

"Oh, that damned Horatio! When Ryan first got that job, that's all he talked about. Horatio this, Horatio that. Ron told me all about it. Crazy boss of yours turned my son against me and my wife! That Horatio is a dangerous man. He's gonna get my boy killed! Well, I'm not gonna let that happen, Missy. You tell Horatio," the man spat the word like it was distasteful, "that I'm headed over to the courthouse right now to get a protective order against him. Once I have guardianship over Ryan established, I'm taking him back to Boston."

Natalia blinked as the dial tone sounded in her ear. _What just happened?_


	7. Chapter 7

My thanks to Gooniegirl3333 for beta-reading, to CSIMiamiFAN and anitra mason 1 for reviewing the last chapter, and to Christina for her keen legal eye. Any remaining errors are mine.

This chapter has a trigger warning for memories of physical abuse and self-harm.

* * *

Horatio Caine wanted to hit something. He had arrived at the courthouse too late, screeching tires and all, just in time to see his least favorite judge walk out with a man in a tan suit who looked considerably like an older version of Ryan. Both men were laughing, and tan suit clutched a thin sheaf of paper in one hand, presumably the emergency protective order. An overweight mousy woman shuffled along two steps behind them.

The lieutenant watched the trio in silence from the front seat of his Hummer. His first instinct was to reach for his gun and place its sights squarely on the head of Ryan's father. Surely, the world would be better off without this sick psychopath roaming the streets. But he curtailed that impulse. Once Ryan's parents had entered their rental car and were speeding back toward the hospital, he reached for his cell phone.

"Eric, we have a problem."

* * *

Eric Delko looked over at Ryan, sleeping peacefully in the hospital bed beside him. "He was awake before, H, but he's sleepin' now."

"Any minute now, Eric, they're going to escort you out of his room."

The Cuban leapt from the guest chair and began to pace. "What? They can't do that, can they?"

At the other end of the line, Horatio sighed. His voice was tight when he replied. "They already have, Eric. But we won't give up on Mr. Wolfe without a fight." A swallow, and an uncharacteristically tender voice followed. "Please let him know that."

"I'll try, H." As Eric hung up, he could already hear commotion in the hallway outside. Thinking quickly, he scribbled a few words on the back of a slip of paper, wedged the note inside his watchband, and placed his watch on Ryan's right wrist.

"You hang in there, Ryan," he said, softly. "I gotta go. I'm sorry, I wish I could stay." He squeezed Ryan's hand as the door burst open and an angry voice ordered him to leave the room.

Ryan clutched at Eric's hand, and the sudden movement caused Eric to look down at his co-worker. The younger man's hazel eyes were wide open and terrified. "Please don't leave me," he mouthed silently.

Eric's heart constricted painfully and he unexpectedly found himself blinking back tears. He knew all too well what it was like to be fighting for your life in the hospital. You needed your friends and family with you. _But not this family_ , he thought sadly.

The angry man continued to bellow from the doorway, and Ryan closed his eyes and flinched with each word. Eric slipped his hand from Ryan's, clasped his shoulder, and whispered, "I'll be back soon, I promise."

Ryan's father gave Eric and his loud shirt a sidelong glance as he exited Ryan's room. "What's this, the gay lover?" he sneered in the direction of his wife, who was standing nearby. She merely stared at the ground and bobbed her head.

Eric tucked his fists under his arms and glared at the man. "Don't you have better things to do than harass your son? He's fighting for his life in there!"

"Young man, this affair does not concern you. This is a private, family matter."

The olive-skinned man stood toe to toe and glared at him. "I am more his family than you will ever be."

Rage broiled in the suited man's eyes, and Eric narrowly missed a punch to the face. He returned with a right cross, knocking the older man down. The gleam in the lawyer's eyes as he spat blood was unexpected. He smiled a feral grin at Eric from his position on the floor. "You've only strengthened my case. The Miami-Dade police department is full of brutal hoodlums." He touched his tender jaw. "And I have proof."

A crowd of curious on-lookers had gathered, and Eric found himself tugged down the hall by a hospital administrator. The CSI stared unhappily at Ryan's father's blood on his knuckles and prayed that he hadn't made things any worse for his colleague.

* * *

Horatio Caine sighed heavily as he sat behind his desk. A million tasks stared back at him from his overflowing in-box, but he couldn't focus on anything. In his mind's eye, he kept seeing Ryan, remembering the first time he had realized the depth of the young man's torment. It was rare to find someone who had endured a similar childhood to Horatio's, and he wondered if that was why he had bonded so quickly with the young Mr. Wolfe.

Ryan had been sitting across from Horatio in this very room, during one of their first meetings, when the overhead light had caught a scar just above Ryan's right ear. It would have scarcely been noticeable, but the young man's hair had recently been cut.

"Where did you get that scar, Mr. Wolfe?" The mark was distinctive, and Horatio recognized it instantly as a cigarette burn. What Horatio was concerned with at the time, he remembered, was that Ryan's previous departmental physicals had made no such mention of any scars or birthmarks. The scar appeared to be old, but perhaps he was wrong and the injury had occurred only recently. The lieutenant didn't know his new CSI very well. Was Ryan in an abusive relationship?

Ryan's hand flew to his hairline behind his opposite ear, and Horatio frowned. Yes, there were scars there, too. Three of them, if he wasn't mistaken, in a neat, meticulous line. His breath caught. The damage was too deliberate to be random. He waited uneasily for Ryan's reply.

"They're old, H," the young man all but whispered. He stared at the floor, and wouldn't meet his boss' eyes, even when Horatio came from behind his desk to sit beside him.

"Do you have other scars like those?" Horatio had asked.

Ryan began to tremble under the scrutiny. "Not exactly," he had whispered.

Horatio rubbed his eyes at the memory of forcing Ryan to see Alexx in autopsy and standing by as she gave him a thorough once-over. The boy had been beyond humiliated. Linear scars criss-crossed the undersides of both arms near his armpits. Horatio recognized the marks of a belt and stiffened. Similar scars were found inside his thighs. A small curving line ran across the base of his skull, another near his groin. Whomever had done this to Ryan had been very careful to hide their handiwork. His lower limbs were completely untouched.

Horatio had gestured to Alexx to leave the room and let him talk privately to his CSI.

Alexx had hugged Ryan before leaving. "I'm so sorry, baby." She gently lifted his face to meet hers. "You know you can always talk to me about anything."

Ryan had nodded, mutely, before resuming his contemplation of the floor.

Once the door had clicked shut behind her, Horatio walked over to Ryan. "Son, we need to talk," he had said.

Horatio stood up now and began to pace, remembering how their conversation had moved to his office. He had asked Ryan if the belt marks had anything to do with the fact that Horatio and Uncle Ron were listed as Ryan's emergency medical contacts instead of Ryan's parents.

Ryan had nodded.

"Son, if you ever want to talk about this, I'm here," H had said. "I promise you, what you've shared with me today doesn't leave this room."

Ryan's hand subconsciously flew up to the trio of scars near his left ear. "I guess you want to know what happened."

Horatio had taken a seat near his CSI. "I have a pretty good idea of what happened, Mr. Wolfe."

Ryan had lowered his hand to stare at Horatio. "You do?"

H nodded, his blue eyes filled with compassion. "My father was a violent alcoholic. He used to whip my brother and me with a belt."

Ryan's hands had flown to his sides, confirming Horatio's theory. "How did ... How did you deal with it?"

"It gets easier, Ryan," the redhead said. He took a deep breath and touched the scars in a line across the boy's scalp. "I'm sorry you had to go through so much pain alone."

Ryan had raised his gaze then, revealing two bloodshot hazel eyes. "How did you know?"

Horatio smiled a sad little smile. "I tried hurting myself once too. Anything to get away from the pain. Instead of cigarette burns, I opted for cutting." He had rolled up his sleeve then to reveal a faint series of pale thin lines on his right forearm.

His young CSI had broken down sobbing in his arms. At one point, Tripp had poked his head into the office to find H with watery eyes and one rolled up sleeve, rubbing Ryan's back as the young man told his story of abuse for the first time. The Texan had locked eyes with Horatio, their long years of friendship conveying more with simple looks than words ever could.

 _I told him, Frank._

 _That's good, Horatio. You okay?_

 _I am._

 _Is he okay?_

 _He will be._

But now, as Horatio Caine sat behind his desk with his hand over his face, he wondered. _How long can Ryan stay strong in the face of that madman?_

* * *

From his hospital bed, Ryan focused warily on the man pacing his room grumbling about government overreach, the encroachment of the police state, and the generally filthy conditions of the hospital.

"I'm going to give that administrator a piece of my mind," he declared, turning to his wife. She nodded from her spot in the corner, where she quietly worked on a piece of needlepoint.

George Wolfe focused his attention toward his son, but Ryan looked away before he spoke. "You don't worry about a thing, you hear me, Ryan? We're gonna have you out of here and back to Boston as soon as possible."

Ryan stared hard at the timepiece on his wrist and tried to fight an overwhelming sense of panic. This was all happening too fast, and he didn't have a say in anything. His life was completely out of control. He stared at the digital numbers on his wrist, only then remembering that Eric had placed the watch there with a promise that he would come back. _Delko time_ , he thought, with a vague smile. Ryan touched the watch with his left hand, feeling the intricate knobs and dials. Counting things always calmed him down when he was this upset, and the second hand was his lifeline.

"You listenin' to me, boy?"

His father's face loomed large and Ryan blinked repetitively, the sense of panic returning. He focused on the numbers on the watch to keep his heart rate from jumping completely out of control. _24, 25, 26_. "Yessir," he lied.

"Good." The man smiled. "I'll be back in a minute. You keep an eye now, Edna."

Ryan's mother barely acknowledged the man, choosing to concentrate on her embroidery. But once the door clicked shut, she set aside the hoop and needle. Walking to her son's bedside, she stood next to him. "You okay, Ry?" she asked softly.

He swallowed uncomfortably. "I could use some water."

She picked up a cup and brought the straw to his lips. Brushing the hair from his forehead, she smiled at him sadly. "You just never learn, do you?" She gave him a gentle kiss on the top of his head. "You can't change your destiny, Ryan. Fate is fate, and we got dealt the short end of the stick."

As she walked back to her chair, Ryan fought against the tears that threatened to come. _That's not true,_ he wanted to argue with her, to scream at her, but it would do no good. She would simply cry and remain glued to his father's side, a passive voice of oppression.

He grasped Eric's watch harder, so thankful that his teammate had left something tangible for him to hold on to. It was only then that his fingers found a tiny slip of paper curled under the watchband. He unfurled the note and squinted at the tiny print in Eric's blocky scrawl:

DON'T GIVE UP


	8. Chapter 8

My thanks to Gooniegirl3333 for beta-reading and to Christina for more free legal advice. Good thing, too, because Ryan needs all the help he can get! As always, any remaining errors are mine. Thanks too for your comments on the last chapter, CSIdestiny, CSIMiamiFAN, Guest, and anitra mason 1. I hope you like this chapter. :)

* * *

Horatio barely had time to grab a mug of coffee and slide behind his desk before Eric appeared in his office, highly agitated, with Calleigh and Natalia in tow.

"H, you gotta do something about Ryan. We can't just leave him with his parents! You didn't see him. I think he might have a nervous breakdown or something if we don't - "

Horatio held up a hand, effectively silencing his brother-in-law, and indicated that the trio should close his office door. "I am well aware of the situation, Eric." He raked his eyes over his team as they assembled in front of him. They were a tangled mess of fidgeting worry. Natalia in particular looked as though she hadn't slept in days.

The muscular man ran a hand over his short dark hair and sighed. "So, what do we do?"

Horatio took a sip of coffee and fought down a rising sense of frustration. "I will petition for guardianship of Ryan or convince his uncle to do so. Then we wait for the hearing."

Eric slammed a fist on Horatio's desk. "H, that's not good enough! Ryan shouldn't have to suffer for two weeks!"

The redhead clenched his coffee cup and locked eyes with the younger man. "He has to, Eric. There's no good alternative." Horatio found himself wishing they would be called out on a homicide, just to end this painful conversation, but no such luck. The nefarious citizens of Miami were behaving themselves at the moment.

Calleigh blinked her green eyes thoughtfully. "You still have Ryan's cell phone, don't you, Natalia?"

The tall brunette nodded and sniffed.

"We need to let all of Ryan's other family members know what's going on. Maybe we can pass some messages to him through them."

"He doesn't have much in the way of family," Natalia said softly. "Just his niece and his Uncle Ron." Her eyes searched Horatio's face. "I left Ryan's uncle a message, but I don't know if he received it. Lacey should be arriving soon."

Horatio sighed. To his knowledge - which was admittedly limited - Ryan's niece Lacey knew nothing about her grandfather's mistreatment of her uncle. Sticking the girl squarely in the center of the Wolfe family drama seemed unfair to her, and he certainly didn't relish breaking the news of their concerns. On the other hand, Lacey had access to Ryan and he obviously cared for her. The young man needed as many allies as he could get.

"Call her, please," Horatio said to Natalia, delegating the task. "Keep the call brief and to the point. Let her know that we are concerned for Ryan's welfare because his parents have barred our access to him and his father has been known to be violent toward him in the past." The lieutenant swallowed past the lump in his throat. "And let him know our thoughts and prayers are with him." Horatio studied his hands.

"What if she has questions about her grandfather?" Natalia lifted her watery brown eyes to focus on Horatio's troubled blue ones.

H shook his head. "She doesn't need to know the details. It's Mr. Wolfe's story to tell. Suffice to say, we have just cause to be concerned." He sighed. "I'll talk to her if it comes to that, Natalia."

"What did happen to Ryan?" Eric's voice was soft, but the words echoed painfully around Horatio's office.

The older man gave him a stern look. "It's not my place to say, Eric. Nor should we be gossiping about this in the first place. However ..." He looked thoughtfully across the room for inspiration. Finding none, he finished abruptly, "Know that your concerns are justified." With a wave, he dismissed the three from his office.

He was still rubbing his hand across his forehead when the call came in: homicide in South Beach. He sent Eric and Calleigh to process the scene, but kept Natalia back to help him with Ryan's situation.

"After you call Lacey, place another call to Ron Wolfe, please, and ask him to contact me immediately." Natalia nodded. "I'm going to touch base with Alexx and see if she can get into that room and give us an update on his condition."

Once Natalia had left, Horatio dimmed the lights, closed his office door, and sank into his office chair. He opened his top desk drawer and pulled out a small container of ibuprofen, fumbling with the lid before he managed to pry it open. Downing three pills with a swig of coffee, he sighed.

 _It's going to be a long day._

* * *

The following morning, Ryan awoke to the sound of someone humming a pop song off-key. He opened his eyes and grinned. "Lacey!"

The brunette smiled widely, revealing a perfect set of white teeth held in place by a retainer. Her long brown ponytail swayed back and forth as she sidled up to the bed, flip-flops clacking against the hospital floor. "Hey, Uncle Ryan. How're you feeling?"

"Better, now that you're here," Ryan answered honestly. "When did you get here?" He glanced around, noting the absence of tension in the room before he realized that his parents were gone. "And where are your grandparents?"

Lacey shrugged. "I just got here, actually. I sent Pops and Nana down to the cafeteria for some breakfast." She made a face at him. "Why is there a security guard outside your door?"

He looked away. "I ... I don't know." It was hard to lie to Lacey, but he didn't want to tell her about the Russians.

"It's not because of Pops, is it?" she asked, and it was only then that he realized she was on the verge of tears.

"What?" He turned to look at her wide green eyes. "No, Lacey, no. It's because I got beat up. At work. My boss is afraid ..." he swallowed, "afraid they might try to hurt me again," he admitted.

She sat on the edge of his bed. "I'm confused. Somebody named Natalia called me -"

"Is Nat okay?" Ryan's eyes went wide.

Lacey smirked and slugged him gently on the arm. "She misses you, too. She said to tell you hi."

Ryan could tell that Lacey was gauging his reaction, but right then, he didn't care. He missed Natalia more than he wanted to admit. Sighing in relief, he replied, "Why did she call?"

Lacey bit her lip. "She's worried about you. She said ..." Lacey took a deep breath. When the next words came, they fell out in a rush. "She said that Pops was trying to take over your life. And that it was a bad idea because he hurt you terribly when you were little." Her voice grew very small. "Is that true, Uncle Ryan? Did Pops hurt you?"

The injured man in the hospital bed had no idea how to reply. He fought a myriad of emotions as he tried to think up a good answer. Almost instantly, he was thrust into a flashback.

 _"You must tell no one about this," said the Russian, twisting the pliers against his molar._

 _"This is our little secret," said his father, snapping the belt against his side._

The two images blurred in his mind until image after image of torture, past and present, began to wash over him. Ryan began to hyperventilate, causing his heart monitor to accelerate. His eyes closed and his body shook beneath the thin sheet.

"Uncle Ryan!" Lacey grabbed his shoulder and began to stroke his arm soothingly, tears gathering in her eyes. "Please don't do this," she whispered, her voice hoarse and tear-streaked. "Please don't say it's true!"

Her voice caught him from spiraling further away. His eyes popped open and he grasped her other hand. "I'm sorry, Lacey," he whispered.

"I don't believe you!" she yelled angrily. "Pops would never do that!" She pulled away from him and began sobbing hysterically. Her bracelets jingled on her tan arms as she ran from the room crying.

 _She hates me_ , Ryan thought, blinking back tears. _What have I done?_

He could feel himself starting to hyperventilate again and he did not want to relive another flashback. Ryan focused on regaining his calm by counting heartbeats. The heart monitor steadily slowed as he practiced taking deep and steady breaths. He'd have to remember to thank Calleigh for the one yoga seminar she'd managed to wrangle him into attending.

Ryan felt terrible for hurting his niece. He had never wanted her to know about his childhood, never wanted to put her in this position of choosing between him and her grandparents. It wasn't her fault that her mother had died so young, or that Susan's death had sent Ryan's parents into a tailspin.

 _Thank God for Uncle Ron_ , Ryan thought, desperately wishing that the man himself would walk into the room and take charge, the way he had after Susan had died. _If only Uncle Ron had taken me in too, along with Lacey_ , he lamented, not for the first time. The beatings hadn't started until after his sister's death.

 _What can I do about Lacey?_ He pondered the girl who reminded him so much of his late sister and sighed. _She knows now and she chose my parents. I have to let her go._

The thought of losing his niece was too much for the injured CSI to bear. Ryan closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep, but tears continued to streak from his closed lids.

 _I hate my life._


	9. Chapter 9

My thanks to Gooniegirl3333 for beta-reading and to Christina for letting me bounce some legal ideas around. As always, any remaining errors are mine. I also appreciate everyone who has favorited and/or followed this story. I especially appreciate the most recent comments from guest, CSIMiamiFAN and anitra mason 1. It's always great to know that someone is reading. :)

* * *

Natalia Boa Vista sat on a stool in the DNA lab, trying to concentrate on processing evidence, but her heart wasn't in the task. She and Horatio had been unable to track down Uncle Ron yesterday, which meant that Horatio was still looking into filing for guardianship of Ryan himself. Unfortunately, with Ryan out, their workload had increased, and both of them had to put Ryan's troubles on hold today to focus on work. Still, Horatio was keeping close to his office, which only worried Natalia more. If H was concerned enough about his own concentration to stay out of the field, that meant he was very worried about Ryan indeed.

She had just loaded a sample for analysis when her phone buzzed in her lab coat pocket. Or, more accurately, Ryan's phone buzzed. She took it out and stared at the caller ID. Number 5. Ryan's niece, Natalia remembered.

"Lacey? Is Ryan okay?" The words tumbled rapid fire from her lips.

The only sound on the other end was sobbing. Natalia's heart rate doubled.

"Lacey? Are you okay? Where are you?" Maxine looked up at the sound of her voice. Natalia began to pace.

"I ... I ..."

"Lacey!" Natalia raised her voice, using the firm tone she reserved for their most difficult suspects. "Is - Ryan - okay?"

"I don't know!" Lacey wailed.

Natalia visibly swayed on her feet and Maxine rushed to her side, guiding her to a stool. Natalia blinked back tears and covered her face with one hand. Her voice was trembling when she replied. "Wha - what happened?"

"I asked him ..." There was a long pause and a sniff. "I asked him about Pops."

Natalia, realizing that perhaps Ryan wasn't on death's door quite yet, dropped her hand from her eyes. "What did he say?"

The young woman swallowed. "He started freaking out." She began to cry again. "And then I started freaking out. I accused him of lying about Pops." Lacey started to sob in earnest. "I ran out on him! He must hate me."

"Lacey, he doesn't hate you. Your Uncle Ryan loves you. Go talk to him. He'll understand." Natalia locked eyes with Valera and gave her a reassuring nod. Maxine blew out a deep breath and smiled back.

"I can't go back there."

"What do you mean, you can't go back there?" Natalia's voice suddenly turned sharp. "Lacey, he needs you."

"I'm scared!" More sobbing.

Natalia took a deep breath and tried a different approach. "Lacey, where are you? I'll come pick you up."

* * *

Alexx Woods nodded at the guard outside of Ryan's room, releasing a sigh of relief once she had crossed the threshold into his room.

"Honey, how're you doing?" she called out to the lump on the bed. Ryan was facing away from her. His room was eerily calm, given all of the drama she'd been hearing about.

 _Where are the boy's parents? Why is he all alone?_

Thanking the Lord for small favors, she walked over to his bedside and sat down next to his back. "Ryan, baby? You okay?" She touched his shoulder. Her boy was trembling.

Frowning, Alex reached around and placed a gentle hand on his forehead. No fever. "Ryan, look at me, honey." She helped him to roll over.

The eyes that met hers were tear-soaked and fearful, and Alexx's own eyes welled up at the pitiful sight. "Oh, Ryan, baby." She pulled the young man into her arms. "It's okay, Ryan." She rubbed his back as he cried. "Shhh. It's okay."

Finally, tears spent, he pulled away and wiped his eyes with one hand. "I'm sorry, Alexx," he whispered, staring at the bed.

"Well, I'm not, baby! I'm just glad to get to see you." She gave him one of her winning smiles as she checked his stitches, adjusted his IV, and recorded his vital signs on his chart. "Now, do you want to tell me what's going on? Your team is worried sick about you."

He blinked unhappily and shook his head. "It's nothing."

She sat back down on his bed. "That didn't look like nothing to me, honey." She gently touched his face. "Ryan. It's me. You can talk to me."

"My niece was here," he choked out. "She asked ... she asked whether my father had ever abused me." He raised a set of haunted hazel eyes to her.

She took his hand and squeezed it. "And what did you say?"

"I had a panic attack," Ryan admitted. "And flashbacks." As he shuddered, she nodded sympathetically. "I didn't say anything. I just told her I was sorry." Shaking his head, he whispered, "She doesn't believe me. She ran out." Two fat tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. "Alexx, I can't lose anyone else! I just can't! I don't know what to do!"

She held him and reminded him to breathe, just breathe. She released a sigh of her own as his heart rate slowed back down.

"Where is your niece now?" Alexx tried not to sound judgmental, but she was certain that she was failing.

 _How could that girl walk out on her baby when he needs her? Is his entire family insane?_

Ryan shook his head. "I don't know, Alexx, I don't know." She patted his back.

At that moment, Ryan's parents burst in. "What are you doing, sitting on my son's bed?" George Wolfe demanded. "And where is Lacey?"

Alexx Woods felt Ryan stiffen and heard his heart rate accelerate. "There is no need to yell," she said, calmly, giving Ryan's shoulder a quick squeeze as she stood up. "My name is Dr. Woods." Alexx emphasized her formal title as she held out her hand. "I was checking my patient's vital signs. I haven't seen anyone else in Mr. Frederick's room since I've been here," she added. She winked at Ryan, relieved to see him stifling a smirk at her use of his pseudonym.

Ryan's father reluctantly returned the handshake. The timid woman standing next to him spoke to the floor. "How's he doing, doctor?" she asked. "No one tells us anything."

"His incision is healing nicely and he's responding well to the antibiotics. But his blood pressure and heart rate are all over the place. He needs a calmer environment." She looked pointedly at Ryan's father.

To her surprise, he nodded. "The sooner we get him out of this damn hospital, the better," he growled as his wife murmured her agreement.

Alexx frowned at the escalating sound of Ryan's heart monitor. It was clear to her that her baby boy had no desire to go anywhere with his parents. _Can I invent a plausible reason to keep him in the hospital?_ she wondered. _Otherwise, he's gonna be discharged to these people in a matter of days._

 _I can't let that happen_ , thought Alexx. _I just can't._


End file.
